


Sent To Me

by Shortsnout



Series: Recurring Themes [4]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, 5+1 Things, Christmas Fluff, Gift Giving, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, IronStrange, Love Letters, M/M, Romance, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shortsnout/pseuds/Shortsnout
Summary: Tony Stark hates Christmas after never having much reason to celebrate it in the first place. After the Decimation and their victory against Thanos, everyone is trying to rebuild their lives, but Tony? Well, he’s about given up on romance, until one day he receives a love letter and a gift.Or, the five times Tony hated Christmas and the one time he loved it.
Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange
Series: Recurring Themes [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1240703
Comments: 41
Kudos: 276





	Sent To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Here's my Christmas addition to my Recurring Themes series. Hope you all enjoy it and wishing you all the best for Christmas and a Happy New Year!
> 
> Thank you to Trawler for Beta reading the story!

1.

Creeping down the stairs, blankey in hand, Tony peered through the stair railings, listening. He couldn’t hear anything. Growing braver, he scuttled across the hardwood floor, wincing when his footsteps echoed down the hallway.

The tree lights weren’t on. He put his blankey down and reached underneath the tree to find the button, smiling when it lit up, dazzling him. Snatching the blankey back up, he crept across the floor to the fireplace, taking a deep breath to give himself courage. Stretching out, he held onto the side of the fireplace so he could look up the chimney.

A frigid breeze hit his face, but there was no sign of Santa.

Sitting down on the carpet, he drew his knees up to wait.

He knew he was going to get in trouble, but that didn’t matter. He was going to see him. His daddy was wrong, magic existed, Tony could prove it if he just saw him.

The front door slammed open and he startled, clutching his blankey closer.

‘Santa?’ he whispered, craning his neck.

He heard Daddy saying those bad words mommy told him not to say, falling over on the floor and laughing. Mommy wasn’t far behind, laughing herself and lifting him up, wearing one of her beautiful dresses Tony was always told he wasn’t allowed to touch. He couldn’t help it though, they were so colourful and soft, and he loved to rub them against his skin, pretend she was hugging him.

Pretend that it didn’t hurt when Daddy hit him and she did nothing.

‘Why’s the brat awake?’

‘Don’t call him that, Howard,’ she hissed, taking off her sharp shoes and putting Daddy in the armchair.

‘He’s still carrying that disgusting thing around…give it here!’

Tony shook his head, shoving blankey under his arm. It was his. He held his ground even when Daddy tried to rip it free, planted his feet like he was used to when the hand slapped him around the mouth, making him stumble to the floor.

But he didn’t let go.

‘That’s enough! Edwin!’

Tony ran his tongue over his lower lip, wincing at the sting, his fingers hurting with the grip in which he was holding on to his tattered piece of cloth.

It was his.

Edwin rushed into the room, took one look at them all and scooped him up. He didn’t want to go, he wanted to watch Santa come down the chimney. Mommy and Daddy said nothing to him as Edwin took him back to bed, but he saw her help with Daddy’s tie as he looked over Edwin’s shoulder.

‘And what were you doing out of bed young master?’ Edwin asked, shifting Tony so he was on his hip now, no longer able to see his parents over his shoulder.

‘Waiting to see Santa,’ he told him, nuzzling his nose into Edwin’s neck and sighing. He always smelt good, and Tony didn’t want him to leave. Edwin never minded Tony’s hugs, never minded his hair being messed up, or his clothes rumpled. He liked Tony’s hugs.

Edwin said so.

‘Why was that?’

‘I wanted to ask him something,’ Tony yawned as he was put back into bed, wrapping his blankey around his hand once in case Daddy tried to steal it again. Edwin sat on the edge of his bed, tucking them both in and stroking his head.

‘What did you want to ask him?’

‘To prove he was magic, so he could show Daddy he was wrong…’ he trailed off, biting his lip and wincing.

The hand stroking his head stopped, making him lean back so Edwin could look at him.

‘Not too deep, thankfully,’ he muttered under his breath, his face grumpy looking. ‘Now, what was it you really wanted to ask him?’ Edwin smiled again.

‘I want Mommy to love me more.’

Edwin’s eyes closed for such a long time that Tony thought he’d fallen asleep, and he shifted over to make room for him in his bed.

‘Tony…I know…God damn…’ Edwin whispered, eyes still shut.

‘I know she loves me. She’s supporting my father in his pursuits,’ Tony repeated, proud he remembered it.

He went limp as Edwin gathered him close, hand on the back of his head, holding him so tight it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

***

2.

The scotch burned as it went down. Not in a pleasant way.

Dad had always laughed at him for turning his nose up at it, telling him that he was too wet around the ears for it, that it required a sophisticated palate, something Tony needed to grow into.

Another subtle way of measuring him. Reminding him that he’d never be as good.

‘I was never going to measure up, was I?’ he muttered into the glass. He grimaced and dropped it down onto the table, not bothering to move when it tumbled over, a sepia stain marring the white tablecloth.

Tony stared at it, unable to believe, unable to move, unable to do anything but sit here.

They weren’t supposed to be gone.

What was he supposed to do now?

‘Sir?’ echoed down the hallway.

A grunt sounded in his throat in a feeble attempt to let Jarvis know where he was.

It was all pointless, everything was pointless. He was a waste of space, just like his dad had always told him.

Only now, he couldn’t argue that point back anymore.

‘There you are. What are you doing in here? At least turn the lights on.’

He squinted against the knives of light piercing his eyeballs.

It was a tangled ball of guilt, relief, freedom, pain, fear of the unknown.

‘We can sort everything in the New Year, the company will wait for a few more days. I’ll contact Stane and begin preparations for him to oversee the company. Then we’ll get you up to speed. In times such as these, it’s best to keep moving. But for today, let us drink, eat and be miserable.’

‘You don’t have to join me,’ Tony told him half-heartedly.

‘I may not work for them any longer, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I know…I can never take the place of your parents, but I’m here, Tony.’

‘Jar…Edwin,’ he croaked out, feeling the ache deep in the pit of his stomach.

_Dear God, help me._

‘I’ll arrange the funeral according to your father’s wishes. Don’t worry, sir. We’ll get through this, together.’

He could feel the burn behind his eyes, the sting in the back of his throat, but he couldn’t let go. Tony clutched hold of his anger with rigid claws, afraid that if he let go, he’d disintegrate into pieces.

Tentative, his shaking hand reached across, unsure if Edwin would take it, if they were even close after all of the teenage years of Tony being a jerk, the way he’d started to treat the man after following in his father’s footsteps.

It was clasped without hesitation, the grip on his hand grounding him.

‘We’ll get through this. I’m here.’

Tony didn’t answer, pressing the heel of his free hand into his mouth as if that could stop the sob from trying to escape.

‘Now, you might not want a traditional Christmas dinner, but I remember a young boy who always cheered up at the thought of my homemade chicken noodle soup.’

He gave a small laugh at that which hitched partway and turned into an ugly sob. Toppling forwards, Edwin was there to catch him.

***

3.

He shouldn’t have been surprised he’d failed, really. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, he could honestly put his hand on his heart and say he’d tried this time around. Memories of past Christmas’s haunted him. Images of them trying to bake cookies, huddled together under a blanket to watch corny seasonal movies.

God. He hated Christmas.

He’d thought Pepper had been the one guiding light in his life. Arrogantly, he’d thought that she’d been his pay off, his reward for all the crappy things he’d been handed throughout the years.

_I love you, but I’m not in love with you._

What did that even mean?

He looked at the Iron Man helmet in his hand and rapped his knuckle on the metal.

‘I thought you were the one thing that made me better, my redemption in hot rod red. Looks like that isn’t the case, hey buddy?’

No.

There was no point trying to pin it on Iron Man. That wasn’t why she had left. It was because of his reckless behaviour, the need to keep pushing himself to work a little harder, go a little faster. He was Earth’s defender, it didn’t matter if he had to sacrifice his body to achieve that, as long as he could keep the people he loved safe.

And that was what had broken them.

He threw the helmet up in the air, catching it and throwing it higher.

What if he gave it up? Stopped fighting and left it to someone else? He could have her back.

He’d be losing a part integral to himself, but he’d have her back.

He misjudged the catch and the helmet hit the side of the desk, bouncing off and rolling away.

‘I can’t do it, Pep. I’m sorry,’ he whispered to the room.

Alone.

Again.

Leaning back in his chair he spun in a circle, taking in the darkness of his lab, the light of his arc reactor bathing everything around him in a cool blue. Ironically, it looked almost festive, tinged with ice.

_Don't waste it. Don't waste your life._

Yinsen’s words. He had the chance to do something great here, to join Fury’s boyband, to help keep Earth safe. It was the right decision.

But for now, it hurt.

He wanted her to call. Wanted her to come back. Christmas was meant to be a time of wonderment, of magic, faith in your fellow man. Despite his logical mind, his intelligence, there was still a tiny part of him that was that small boy sitting in his living room waiting for Santa.

Rolling himself over by his feet, Tony’s chair came to a stop beside a set of draws. The scanner read his thumbprint, but his hand hesitated on the handle. Swearing under his breath, he opened the drawer and pulled out the contents, placing them on his lap.

Wrapping the old cloth around his hand, he took comfort in it for a few moments, before looking at the picture he’d hidden in his old blankey. Him and Jarvis, a year before the man had died, taken at a time when Tony had only started getting over the loss of his parents, finally being able to see a light at the end of his tunnel with grief.

He ignored the ring box still in the drawer.

It was cheesy really, wanting to propose at Christmas. To make it special again.

A nudge to his knee made him look down at DUM-E prodding him.

‘S’up boy? Timmy fall down a well again?’

He bent down to its eye level, well, claw level, offering his hand. DUM-E placed its claw in his palm, squeezing once and bleeping.

‘It appears he is trying to comfort you, sir,’ JARVIS told him.

As always, he felt a bittersweet pang at his AI’s voice, the reminder of loss, the remembrance of the man who had been his father figure.

‘That right?’ Tony squeezed back, taking a deep breath to stop the tears forming.

‘Thanks boy.’

***

4.

He’d heard the phrase “feeling lonely even when you’re in a room full of people”. It wasn’t something he’d given much thought to until now. One of the first Christmas’s in which the tower had been filled with people he knew, rather than knowing people in a loose sense because they were business associates or various sponsors.

Steve, Bruce, Thor, Clint, Natasha, his new team of superhero brethren, who understood what it meant to keep the world safe.

Didn’t mean they understood _him_ though.

He gripped his glass of champagne tighter, watching as they laughed together in their groups.

Leaving him on the outskirts.

He could go over there, force himself into the conversations, they would make room for him, but it never seemed genuine.

He knew what Fury and SHIELD had said. Iron Man yes, Tony Stark no, but he’d hoped that after going on missions together, saving the world together, eating, hanging out, living together would change that.

His mortality, his frailty seemed to be something no one could let him forget. He wasn’t trained by SHIELD like Clint and Nat were, deadly assassins, their bodies their weapons. He couldn’t turn into a radioactive green monster like Bruce, who could snap his neck if he felt like. Tony wasn’t Thor, an alien come Thunder God, come whatever he was.

Tony glanced up from his drink, watching as Steve Rogers laughed with a group of SHIELD agents.

There would always been animosity between him and Steve. Tony hated him just a little bit for his holier than thou attitude, and the fact his father had loved him more. It was juvenile, he knew, but Steve didn’t have to put up with being told over and over that he wasn’t as good as Captain America, that his father had wished his own son had been frozen instead of him.

Tony had still seen him as a hero, still worshipped the idea of him.

Until they met.

_The only thing you really fight for is yourself._

You should never meet your heroes.

Loki was defeated, his army gone. No one spoke of what Tony had gone through, the way he’d taken a nuke through the wormhole. He guessed it was expected of them, that they would lay down their life for the people of Earth, that, he did understand.

Didn’t stop the nightmares though. The fear he now had of the darkness, the hatred of the cold.

He was and would always be weaker than the rest of them.

Not a superhero.

Just a man in a suit.

Finishing his drink, he placed it on the bar counter, skirting the edges of the party, happy and dismayed in equal amounts that he wasn’t disturbed.

He went to his bedroom, checking to make sure it was locked behind him despite knowing nothing was coming through that door after him.

‘JARVIS? Get Rhodey on the phone, would you?’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘Hey, Tones. Sorry, I was going to ring you and things got away from me.’

‘No problem, Platypus, work getting you down?’ Tony smiled, flopping back on his bed and loosening his tie.

‘Don’t you know it. Never stops, not even for Christmas. Sorry I couldn’t be there for you this year.’

He could hear the sound of a pen hitting the table, paper shifting as Rhodey pushed his work away.

‘Don’t be, I’ve got the others, we’re having a blast,’ he tried not to grit his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I only called to tell you how much you’re missing out.’

‘Tony?’

‘In fact, I think I’ve got to go, Thor wants to arm wrestle with Cap, Merry Christmas to you! Sorry you’re missing out on all the fun. JARVIS, cut the call.’

‘To-’

He linked his fingers over his eyes, feeling the pressure of the reactor pushing into his chest.

‘I hate Christmas.’

***

5.

‘Tony?’ Steve called in the empty room.

Every year he did this. Insisted on meeting with him.

‘No Steve! It doesn’t matter what time of the year it is! It’s not like everything is magically fixed, that the other three hundred or so days of the year don’t hurt. Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we should all sit around the fire and sing kumbaya.’

He didn’t move from his office window, gazing out at the destruction, the wretched state the world was in. He could only see it in terms of monochrome, a world devoid of colour, of warmth or life. Here he stood in Stark Industries, the pinnacle of power in the modern world.

Useless when destruction came for it.

‘You aren’t the only one hurting Tony, the only one who’s carrying the burden of knowing we failed! I lost people too!’

His hatred was visceral, a want to lash out and make everyone else hurt. Steve, Strange, the remaining Avengers.

They had lost.

Strange had known and he’d handed the stone over anyway.

‘Everything has to be a competition with you. Yes, you lost Bucky, the greatest best friend who ever lived! So what!’ He slammed his hand down on the glass, wishing he had the same super strength as Steve, so that he could punch the man and actually make it hurt.

He could almost see through his hand, his muscle mass still not recovered from his stint of floating around in space close to starvation. Maybe he should help it along, fade into the background.

Disappear into the ether like the pathetic man he was.

‘You can’t live like this, Tony. We can’t…keep looking back over what we’ve lost. We need to move forward-’

‘Move forward? Like we moved forward as a team after our little stint at the airport? After the Accords. Is that your version of moving forward!’

The nanobots came out of his arc reactor, reacting to his agitation, forming over his hands.

That would make a dent in Steve.

Steve didn’t flinch away, standing his ground even as Tony got up close, almost as if he knew he deserved it.

‘I lost Peter…’

Tony felt like the anger had suddenly been winded out of him, his hand groping through air for something that wasn’t there.

‘No Tony, not just you. We all lost, we all fought.’

‘And it wasn’t good enough!’ Tony shouted, the words echoing around them, turning into weapons themselves.

‘Tony…’

‘Just go. There’s no point arguing all over again…no point in making old wounds bleed again.’

There really wasn’t. He was on his own.

Like always.

***

+1

Tony ripped off his jacket as he stepped out of the elevator, hoping the action of shedding his work persona would stop the stress, but it followed him in the hunch of his shoulders, the building headache behind his eyes.

‘It’s the holidays, you’d think they’d have better things to do than arrange endless meetings. Honestly, I swear it’s…what the hell is that?’ He stopped his tirade at the white box perching on the edge of his lab desk.

‘FRIDAY? That wasn’t here when I left? Did I forget to take it somewhere?’

‘I think you’ll find there’s a note on the box, boss.’

He put his hands on his hips and glared at the ceiling.

‘And if there’s a bomb or something equally dangerous in there?’

‘Then I would have warned you and had it disposed of safely. Read the note,’ FRIDAY deadpanned.

**Tony,**

**I know you hate Christmas and I’ve spent the last few weeks thinking of something I can do to change that. I know you have more reason than most to hate everything to do with this time of year.**

It was from someone he knew, then.

**Do you remember the song, Twelve Days of Christmas? I know it’s meant to be the twelve days after Christmas, but I thought you could do with reminding of the magic and love of Christmas.**

**You are important, dare I say treasured, to those around you.**

**Hope you enjoy it.**

‘You have some fancy-ass calligraphy,’ Tony muttered, flipping the note over. There was nothing to suggest who had sent it, and he didn’t recognise the handwriting. Easing his thumb around the seam of the sealed box, he flipped the lid back to reveal a gorgeous pear tart.

‘FRIDAY, do I like pears?’ He asked, bending down to examine it.

‘I’ve never witnessed you eating one, but it is not listed as one of your allergies on your medical record.’

‘And you’ve already scanned it for poison and explosives?’

‘Yes. And yes, I do know who it is from, and no I’m not going to tell you.’

‘I could override you, you know,’ Tony growled, swiping his scarred index finger over the paper-thin pear slices fanned out over the top of the crumbly golden pastry, syrup clinging to his finger.

‘You could, but where would the romance be in that?’

‘Romance?’ He paused, finger midway to his lips.

Tony hadn’t thought about that…for years now. Not since Pepper, not since Thanos’s Decimation or even now they were in the recovery period. He hadn’t even reverted to his old ways of sleeping about.

He glanced down at his scarred arm, hidden beneath his shirt, a reminder of what he’d sacrificed. Stephen had been able to save him on the battlefield, but he hadn’t been able to reverse the damage.

Not only had he retired from the hero gig, but he’d also retired from other aspects of his life now, which suited him fine. Pepper had control of Stark Industries, keeping him informed of the major projects, but he was content to take a step back. There would always be bad guys, threats to the planet to stop and while he’d be Iron Man when needed, it was time for the new heroes to step up to the plate, while he supported them with SHIELD and his inventions.

His love life though…

That’d died a long time ago.

‘Are you going to tell me who it is?’

‘Not a chance, boss. It’s someone we trust, and I had a thorough chat with them about their intentions.’

‘Is that right?’ Tony smiled, sucking the syrup from his finger.

Someone he trusted.

That wasn’t a huge list.

***

**Did you know that doves can symbolise love and peace, but a turtle dove can represent enduring love? They pair for life. They are also very affectionate towards their mate and any offspring they have.**

No, Tony didn’t know that, and despite the cynical part of him that wanted to scoff and say “who cares”, there was a small, long-forgotten part that wriggled in happiness at the attention, who loved the idea of two birds mating for life.

Ridiculous.

He was being ridiculous.

**I’ve seen how you are with Peter. I love the way you are with him, the endless patience and affection for a child that isn’t yours by blood, but by feeling alone. It’s amazing, Tony. You’re amazing.**

He glanced down at the knitted turtle doves, ornaments for the tree he was never going to put up. Lifting them from the box, he cradled them in his hand, lifting them up for closer scrutiny. Well, he supposed they were kind of cute. Glancing around the lab he decided not to leave them in here to the mercy of his experiments or DUM-E’s heavy-handed claw, he put them in his pocket to take home with him.

Someone who knew how he was with Peter. You didn’t need to be that observant to know that Tony saw Peter as a son. Even to this day, he could remember the relief when the kid had been returned to him, unscathed.

Many new relationships had been forged from the last few years, traumatic experiences brought people together in the strangest of ways.

The strangest being the new bond Peter had with Stephen.

Despite his initial anger at the wizard for giving up the stone, for knowing what was going to happen he did understand why he had done it. They’d become friends in the aftermath, their relationship probably accelerated due to the trauma they’d gone through together, but they were friends.

Friends in a way he’d never been with Steve or the other Avengers.

Stephen matched him with his thirst for knowledge, something Tony shared with Bruce, but he was also not scared to call him out on his bullshit as Rhodey and Pepper did, and he listened. Truly, listened when Tony talked. There were no egos fighting against each other, (although he’d admit on the doughnut ship their egos had clashed) they held mutual respect for each other.

He’d adopted Peter as one of his own, under no influence of Tony’s and more often than not, he had to listen to Peter droning on and on about Kamar-Taj or some new fighting technique he’d learnt. The three of them hung out sometimes, gathering dust together in the Sanctum.

Tony put his hand in his pocket, rubbing his thumb over one of the beaks.

He wondered.

***

This time Tony could smell his gift from down the hallway as he padded into the communal kitchen of the Avengers Compound. He’d thought it been Bruce cooking, he always cooked amazing things, but the room was empty with a takeout bowl and note waiting for him.

‘How are you getting all of these to me without anyone noticing?’ Tony whispered, doing a small circle in the kitchen, looking behind the kitchen door of all things.

**You once told me when you were ill that you missed Jarvis’s chicken noodle soup, remedy for both the cold and the soul.**

He could feel himself smile as he sat down. It wasn’t quite the same smell, but it was his comfort food, a small, little known fact about him.

‘This is the second time I’ve had chicken noodle soup around Christmas.’

**Sorry that I couldn’t cook it myself. I’m useless at it. Hope this brings you good memories, and, knowing you, you’ve probably missed a few meals. So, stop inventing for the day, ignore your meetings and take a few minutes to sit in silence and enjoy.**

‘Yes, Mom,’ Tony grumbled, pulling out a chair at the breakfast bar and unpacking the soup, glad a spoon was included.

**I know this was the day they died, and I know you have conflicted feelings over it, I hope this can bring you some small comfort.**

**You’re not alone, Tony.**

His initial response was to argue back, but his secret admirer had him there. The list was small, but he had people he cared about, that he knew cared about him return. Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, Bruce, Thor…Stephen, he added after thinking about it.

No, he wasn’t alone.

And he didn’t want to spend today of all days alone.

***

‘Anyone home!’ Tony called from the bottom of the stairs, taking his time to peruse the relics found on the ground floor. He knew it frustrated Stephen to no end, but it was part of their friendship. Tony annoying the shit out of him, Stephen becoming frustrated and exasperated.

‘What are you doing here?’

Tony didn’t jump at the unexpected voice behind him, long used to Stephen creeping up silently behind him with the aid of the Cloak, or magic or whatever.

‘Hey, long time no see,’ he greeted the red fabric that flew over to meet him, laughing as it smothered itself over him, moulding to his chest and back. ‘Been looking after yourself?’ he smiled wider when the Cloak ruffled its collar in a nod.

‘And you, asshole? Any dimensional threats I need to be aware of?’ he asked once he could see through the fabric.

‘Let him go,’ Stephen scolded, clucking his tongue as the Cloak did so reluctantly, flicking the end of its hem at them both before floating away in a sulk. ‘No, no dimensional threats yet, but give it time. Coffee?’

‘Mmm,’ he agreed in a nonchalant hum, making his way to the kitchen at the back of the Sanctum and snagging his favourite seat at the old worn, wooden table.

‘You…are you okay? Today I mean…’ Stephen asked with his back turned, attention on the boiling water.

That summed the man up, his hesitation with words, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. Tony was touched that he’d remembered that today was the anniversary of his parents’ death, but he wasn’t pushing, giving him space if he wanted to talk, but also a leaving a way out if Tony didn’t want to.

‘Honestly, Doc, I’ve been better, but all things considered, I’m alright. Are you busy today?’

_I don’t want to be alone._

Stephen shook his head, making the drinks now that the water had boiled. He wasn’t sure if the wizard could hear the screaming thought echoing inside his head, or if he was just perceptive, either way, Tony appreciated it.

‘I’ve got some studying to do if you don’t mind sitting with me? Maybe put a film on?’ Stephen told him as he brought the mugs to the table.

That sounded perfect.

‘Let’s go, asshole!’

Stephen only rolled his eyes at the nickname, indicting the way with a flick of his head and picking the mugs back up.

‘I’ve got it, lead the way.’ He nudged the trembling hands aside, waiting for Stephen to walk him the way.

He’d been in the Sanctum a number of times and he couldn’t recall ever seeing a TV anywhere in the building. That didn’t mean Stephen didn’t have one hidden somewhere…or a different way of watching media perhaps…like a crystal ball, or a scrying mirror!

‘I have a TV in my room,’ Stephen muttered as they walked down the corridor, opening one of the doors and holding it open for him.

‘There’s no way you could know-’

‘I know you. And it was written all over your face. Go pick a movie.’ Stephen grabbed the mugs from Tony and placed them on a low coffee table, tapping the front of his tunic as he walked around the room, collecting some books from the worn burgundy couch, his clothes melting into a worn looking T-shirt and faded dark jeans.

Tony surveyed the room with a critical eye, automatically finding the exits and plotting escape routes. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the man, it was second nature to him at this point. It was warm, inviting, and, oddly, it felt like Stephen. The floor was matched the deep walnut furniture, the walls matched the burgundy of the couch.

It was dark, secluded, cloistered.

Exactly what he needed.

Folding his legs underneath him on the couch, he watched Stephen move around the room, muttering under his breath as he often did when he was looking for something. Propping his head up on his hand, elbow on the back of the couch, Tony watched him, a fond smile on his face.

‘There you are!’ he exclaimed, brandishing the book. ‘You’ve not picked anything to watch?’ Stephen asked when he turned back to Tony.

‘Not yet, sorry, was thinking.’

Stephen sat on the opposite end of the couch, kicking his socked feet up onto the coffee table and picking the two mugs over, handing one to Tony.

‘I want to say it gets easier, that these feelings will pass, but…I used to hate it when people said that to me.’ Stephen offered him a sad smile over his tea.

‘You lost your parents too?’

That… Tony did not know, and he turned to face the man, his legs crossed, coffee mug balancing on his knee.

‘A long time ago, not around Christmas, but yeah. Mom… she died first and I…fell apart without her.’ He levitated the mug down to the floor, hands trembling more than usual. ‘Dad went a few years later. He wasn’t a kind man, or an emotional one, in fact, I refused to see him on his deathbed.’ He folded his arms over his chest, leaving his book on his lap.

‘Do you regret it?’ Tony pushed, asking more for his own sake. He’d always wondered if he had the chance to say goodbye would he have taken it?

‘I don’t know,’ Stephen answered, and he could hear the rawness in his tone, a wound that had never fully healed.

They sat in silence for a moment before Stephen dropped the book on his lap on the floor with a heavy thump.

‘Want company with that movie of yours?’

‘Sure. Stephen…I’m not great at this sort of thing, but I do understand.’ Tony reached his scarred hand out, laying his index and middle finger gently on Stephen’s ribs.

‘I know. So, what are we watching? Some cheesy Christmas flic?’ Stephen’s handed patted the top of his for a moment before he settled back against the couch, arms folded over his chest.

‘Not a chance in hell. I hate-’

‘Christmas, I know, you’ve mentioned it a few times.’ Stephen gave him a look, a wry sort of understanding.

‘What? Not going to convince me otherwise?’ Tony tapped the TV controller on his knee, waiting for the argument to follow.

‘Nope. You gonna chose something or what?’

Sceptically holding the sorcerer’s gaze for a minute longer, Tony turned back to the TV, thinking about what to watch. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, there was no pressure, but Tony could feel an itch along his spine, an expectation that he had to speak.

‘I used to believe in the magic of Christmas a long time ago,’ Tony whispered as he hit play on a mindless action movie, turning down the sound enough that he could be heard over it. ‘I waited up for Santa once, wanted him to show me real magic.’

Stephen chuckled. ‘A small Tony Stark, waiting for Santa so he could demand to know his secrets and then tell him magic doesn’t exist,’ he flicked his fingers, orange sparks fluttering down onto Tony’s knees.

‘That’s not magic,’ Tony scoffed at the familiar argument they had. ‘I ended up with a split lip for my troubles.’

The man beside him didn’t move, didn’t offer his condolences or reach over and hug him, he…waited for whatever Tony wanted to tell him. Stephen already knew all about his parents, about Edwin, about his breakup with Pepper. He’d probably been able to put together the pieces he’d been told and work out what his father was like.

They watched the movie for a while, Tony beginning to relax on the couch, rubbing his hands over his arms. He startled when the comforter from the bed dropped on his shoulders.

‘I hate that they destroyed it for you,’ Stephen muttered. He hadn’t moved, but his jaw was set, eyes narrowed.

‘We’ve all got to grow up eventually, Doc.’

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’ Stephen blurted, almost as if the words escaped him unwillingly.

‘Nothing really. I mean I’ve got that charity gig in a few days, but the actual day…nothing. Underoos has invited me over to his, but he doesn’t need an old man hanging around him and his hot aunt. Same with Rhodey, the man needs to spend some time with his family, and Pepper has her new fiancée…’

Everyone had someone.

Except him.

‘Want to spend it at the Sanctum with Wong and me? I mean, I’ve got to stay here and protect it, Wong isn’t going anywhere.’

‘You guys haven’t got any wizarding Yule traditions? No otherworldly beings to summon?’ Tony pulled the cover over himself, tossing the end over to Stephen so the man could put it over his legs.

‘Not scheduled for the twenty-fifth, nope. Come on, douchebag, don’t be a sad loser in your tower all alone.’

Despite his teasing, Tony felt his hand squeeze his knee under the cover.

‘Hmm, I’ll think about it.’

***

Tony turned the hummingbird feeder over in his hands, perplexed at the very idea of it.

‘Well, that isn’t exactly calling birds, is it?’ Tony told it.

‘Whatcha got?’ Barnes asked as he sat down opposite him at the kitchen table, leaning over to look at it.

‘Exactly what it looks like. It’s a Christmas present, someone’s been sending me Christmas presents.’

‘Someone…who doesn’t like you?’

Tony packed it away in the box, surprised at his overprotective feelings towards his unknown admirer. He and Barnes had a…working relationship, a strange frenemy vibe going on. The aftermath of Thanos did that to people. Hard to stay mad at someone when the whole world had ended. Barnes was displaced, both in time and with loneliness. He had Sam, but he’d lost Steve in the process, a tangled ball of emotions that Tony sort of shared in.

A part of him admired Steve for seizing a life for himself.

The other part was jealous.

‘They’re…I’m not sure if it’s a he or a she, is trying to be romantic, giving me something every day in the run up to Christmas.’

‘Ah. Sounds kinda sweet. Any ideas on who?’ Barnes grinned.

‘Not a clue. Not like it can be many people.’

‘You should make a list, it might help you narrow it down.’

‘Shall I put you down on it?’ Tony teased, pushing his chair back and picking up his box and letter.

‘As if. Meeting is in five minutes, try not to be late this time. Fury’s in a bad enough mood as it is.’ Barnes rubbed a hand over his face, groaning at the thought of it.

He made a vague agreeing noise over his shoulder as he went, wanting the security of his lab before he opened his letter.

**Hummingbirds can be seen as a symbol of resilience and energy, a spiritual message that you can do far more than you think. You often think of yourself as just a man in a suit, surrounded by aliens, super humans.**

**Tony you are far more than a man in a suit. You sacrificed yourself for the universe, you keep giving even when it seems like the world has turned its back on you. You always get back on your feet.**

**You are _more_ than what you think of yourself.**

**Hang this up in your cabin and remind yourself of that fact.**

Tony grabbed a piece of paper from his desk. He could have asked FRIDAY to make a note, but it felt fitting to use the same material his suitor was using.

**Rhodey**

**Pepper**

**Barnes**

**Stephen**

**Peter**

**May**

**Happy**

**Bruce**

**Thor**  
  


Tony bit down on his pen.

‘The list is longer than I thought,’ he mused aloud.

Well, it wasn’t going to be Rhodey, Pepper or Peter, so he crossed their names out, and Barnes because there was no way in hell that was happening. He held it aloft to the light, thinking. The people left all knew about his crappy past Christmas’s, knew him well enough that FRIDAY wouldn’t have been suspicious.

His gaze kept going to Stephen’s name.

Oh God.

He wanted it to be him.

***

He put on a blast of speed, doing an impressive loop de loop before settling back into his usual flight pattern. Flying always helped calmed his thoughts, and it was a damn sight more exhilarating than driving.

Stephen Strange.

He had feelings for Stephen Strange.

Or did he?

Tony sharply pulled up and accelerated into the sky, leaving the city far below him, a blanket of twinkling lights stretching as far as the eye could see, before cutting the power and free falling back down. With his stomach in his throat, he whooped loudly, adrenaline kicking in.

It wasn’t that he had feelings, he just wasn’t adverse at the idea of Stephen having them for him?

Tony didn’t even know anymore.

The man was attractive, in a strange, gazelle type of way. He wasn’t what Tony would go for in a male partner, he preferred a few more muscles, but there was no denying Stephen was strong. He’d seen the man fight, it was strength in a different capacity.

His heart quickened in a way that had nothing to do with the ground hurtling up towards his face.

He trusted Stephen in a way he did few others, opening up without fear of reprimand, without being belittled. They had butted heads a few times in fights since the Decimation, but now they worked well as a team.

Seamless, flawless, unlike he and Steve.

Kicking his repulsors back online, he sped off for home, not in New York but his cabin, wanting the comfort and solitude.

Even if it wasn’t Stephen sending him the gifts, Tony did wonder if he should bring up his revelation with the man. He could see them working well as a couple as well, Stephen soothing his rash, impulsive side while knowing he was Iron Man and the risks that came with it.

Of course, he had no idea if Stephen even liked men so the whole thought process was futile.

Walking up the path to his cabin, the armour melted away from him, the cold making itself known. He had to prepare for the charity Christmas event tomorrow, had names to memorise, needed to talk to Pepper on the phone about the last-minute details.

‘How’d the hell did you get there?’ Tony wondered out loud, circling his coffee table in the living room.

There was no way anyone knew he was coming here today, it was an impromptu decision.

FRIDAY must have given them a heads up.

He could’ve asked FRIDAY to play back the security feed to find out who was leaving these, whoever it was. But they’d taken such time and effort to ensure they weren’t going to be found out.

**I’ve never seen anyone eat as many doughnuts as you in one sitting and not be sick.**

‘Well, that’s not very romantic is it? I’ve got a high metabolism, what can I say?’ Tony pried back the lid of the Krispy Kreme doughnuts, inhaling the sweetness, his stomach clenching in response. These and coffee were a match made in heaven.

**I enjoy watching you eat. Not in a creepy way, but you always do it with such gusto, a zest for life you have in every aspect. You never stop, never stop trying, pushing forward, even in your darkest hour, you’re still standing, still making quips, still trying to laugh.**

**I…admire that about you, Tony.**

  
A while later, sat on his couch with a fresh mug of coffee, he bit into his doughnut, looking at the turtle doves he’d placed over the fireplace, their beaks touching.

He couldn’t remember anyone ever going through such effort for him. That was his role. He did the wooing, the chasing, the cute gifts and nicknames. It was disconcerting, the shoe being on the other foot and all, but also rather sweet.

‘Who are you?’

***

He felt like he was past his prime for things such as this. His tailored suit hid his scarred arm, but it showed on his hand and the side of his neck. It drew different reactions in people, awe in some, the mark of what he’d been willing to do for the people of Earth, disgust in others (the scarring was pretty gruesome) fear at how powerful he was.

Tony hated all reactions.

He didn’t want to play these games anymore, to be a puppet dancing to an unheard tune. He didn’t want to give public appearances to improve the Avengers PA, didn’t want to strengthen Stark Industries.

He’d finished with all of it.

Finishing his conversation with some business tycoon he really should’ve known the name of, he caught Pepper’s eyes across the glittering room, indicating with an incline of his head that he needed a break. Years of working together and knowing each other had honed their relationship, and she was beside him in seconds, ushering the crowds away and diverting their attention.

Nodding his thanks, he spared a brief look for her in her cocktail dress, a beautiful slinky black number, with lace straps revealing her freckled skin. It both relieved him and hurt that he no longer felt any romantic feelings for her, the feelings instead settled down to deep friendship, a bond of siblings now.

‘Mr Stark? I have something for you.’ A waitress approached him, trying to smile to hide her nerves, but her bottom lip was trembling.

‘Easy, honey, I’m not going to eat you alive,’ he smiled, trying to put her at ease.

‘Can you come with me to the bar?’

He’d been headed there anyway and nodded graciously, checking his reflection in passing in one of the elaborate ice statues of a reindeer.

Still put together.

Waiting at the bar, he drummed his fingers over the onyx counter, giving the room a once over for danger or disturbances. As Christmas events went it was tasteful, the only details to the festive holiday being the ice sculptures and the carols the string quartet were playing.

There was a huge bushy tree dominating the corner of the room groaning under the weight of all the golden baubles it held, but Tony had refused to look at it all evening.

‘Here you are, sir.’

The waitress was holding a glass of scotch and an envelope out to him.

‘Thank you, could you place it on the bar? Sorry, I don’t like to be handed things.’

‘Of course, my apologies.’

‘Is that?’ Tony nudged the glass with his knuckle.

‘Famous Grouse. Enjoy your evening, Mr Stark.’

‘Six geese a laying… tenacious link, but alright, I’ll give you that one.’ He sipped at his drink, ripping open the envelope while keeping an eye on the crowds around him.

**I know you hate these things. The face you show them is a façade, no longer the person you are.**

**I see the real you, Tony Stark.**

**P.S You always look divine when you dress up for these things. I always thought so, even before we met in person.**

Tony reached into his breast pocket, putting his list on the bar and smoothing it out.

**~~Rhodey~~ **

**~~Pepper~~ **

**~~Barnes~~ **

**Stephen**

**~~Peter~~ **

**May**

**Happy**

**Bruce**

**Thor**

‘I think it’s about time we started figuring out who you are.’

***

Tony looked at the rubber duck. The seven rubber ducks to be precise.

**I’ll admit, I’m getting a little fed up of all the bird references. However, I do like this one regarding you. Swans always make everything look so effortless, graceful, when underneath the water they’re frantically paddling, working constantly. No one sees that, all they see is the graceful bird gliding on the water.**

**I see your frantic paddling Tony. All the work you put in for the Accords, for them to be pardoned, the constant work, upgrades, parties. It looks like it takes you nothing, that you’re always taken for granted.**

**I see it, Tony.**

**I see you.**

He could admit it. The words were starting to affect him. Hardly anyone knew the work he’d had to put into the new drafting of the Accords after the Decimation, the way he’d fought for the Avengers pardons.

For Steve Rogers’s pardon.

He knew where the man was. What he’d done when returning the Infinity Stones. They’d met once, to put the past behind them, and while Tony hadn’t liked seeing Steve in an old frail state, he was happy the man had lived his life to the full with someone he loved.

This person…they knew Tony, almost better than he knew himself.

‘Damn it. Where were you a few years ago?’ Tony asked the room, lining the ducks up, one by one.

***

Tony turned the jar over in his hands.

‘I thought this person knew me. Why would they get me this?’

**You’re wondering why I got you milk bath soak when you’re scared of water.**

‘Smart ass.’

**Bath’s help with inflammation and reduce stress, and this stuff smells gorgeous.**

Someone who knew basic things about the body, then. That didn’t really narrow down his list as most of them knew basic anatomy… the ones who didn’t have a doctorate at least.

**I understand fear, how crippling it can be. I’m not going to encourage you or tell you to get over it. I hope that one day I can help you overcome it, even if nothing ever happens, I promise you I’ll help you overcome your aquaphobia.**

Bruce had tried several times, and as he rolled the jar back and forth over his palms, he considered the idea that it might be him sending the presents. The idea didn’t repulse him, he and Bruce were close, they did science together, and he was one of the people Tony considered a very close friend.

He’d never gotten any sort of feelings vibe from the man and Tony was emotionally obtuse when it came to those sorts of things. People wanting him for a night, that he could read from a mile off, people wanting him to build them things, or financial support, that he understood.

The idea that people wanted to be close to him for no other reason than they cared for him.

That was something Tony couldn’t understand.

He unscrewed the jar, inhaling deeply.

It did smell divine.

‘FRIDAY, call Bruce for me.’

‘Tony? Everything alright?’

‘Hey Jolly Green, just checking in, want to make sure you’re doing alright.’

He heard Bruce chuckle, glasses being set aside on his desk.

‘I think you’ve known me long enough to cut out the idle chit chat, Tones. What’s up.’

‘Hey, I do actually check on you from time to time! Who made your hulk proof computer that you’re currently using? Who reinforced your bed?’ He set his jar down with a thunk.

‘You know I appreciate everything you do for me. But I know you. Come on, what’s up?’

‘You heard from Thor recently? Like at all?’ It was possible the gifts were turning up by a magical (not that Tony would ever admit it existed) method, and Thor might be using some space science to magic them over.

‘No. He’s probably lightyears away from us now. Is there trouble? Do we need to contact him? I’m sure Valkyrie has-’

‘No, it’s fine, I just wanted to know.’

He crossed Thor from the list.

‘Hey, you haven’t been sending me things, have you?’ Tony flat out demanded.

‘Sending you things?’

‘Hummingbird feeder? Krispy Kreme doughnuts? They ringing any bells?’

‘Hummingbird… Tony, are you alright? Do you need me to come over? Do you need me to call someone?’ Bruce sounded too concerned to be faking it. With a smile, he crossed off Bruce’s name

‘Wrong person. Sorry for the confusion. Have a Merry Christmas!’

He’d probably get a visit from Bruce in the next few days (the conversation was odd, even by his own standards). Pulling out his list, he updated it.

**~~Rhodey~~ **

**~~Pepper~~ **

**~~Barnes~~ **

**Stephen**

**~~Peter~~ **

**May**

**Happy**

**~~Bruce~~ **

**~~Thor~~ **

‘It better be you, asshole.’

***

His phone began vibrating as soon as he stepped foot into the elevator at the compound.

‘Hey, Happy, what’s up? Want to go back to being Iron Man’s bodyguard?’

‘After you shot off into space and stopped the biggest threat the universe has ever seen? No thank you.’

‘S’up?’ Tony jammed his thumb on the button for his lab, needing to work off his extra energy.

‘You doing alright? May said you seemed a little upset when you left them?’

He’d spent the day at Peter’s house as he and May had insisted Tony spend one family Christmas day with them. Despite not wanting to dampen their spirits with his bah humbug tendencies, he had enjoyed himself. A lovely homecooked meal, presents and games, that was what Tony imagined Christmas was supposed to be like for families.

It was a stark contrast to his own family celebrations.

God, he loved that kid.

He’d ripped into his present Tony got him with childish abandon, showering them in multicoloured strips of paper, despite his aunt’s cries that he calm down. Later in the kitchen, when he’d gone to talk to May about the account he’d set up for Peter’s college fund, she’d surprised him with a hug.

That was what a mother’s love was supposed to be. The watery proud look she got in her eye when she looked through the doorway at Peter playing with his “retro” Gameboy Tony had gotten him, the way she constantly hugged him and ruffled his hair even when he was annoyed.

There was a deep ache in his gut when he left their apartment. Loss and want coexisting.

‘Since when does the hot aunt call you?’

‘Erm, since we started dating? And can you not? Call her that I mean. Come on man, let me have one hot chick.’

‘You’re dating! Since when? FRIDAY, did you know about this?’

‘I’ve been aware of Mr Hogan’s relationship for some time now.’

‘Don’t lecture FRIDAY, and don’t change the subject either, Tones.’

‘I’m not, I’m in shock. Man…how’d you manage that? You guys bond over the kid or something? Come on, I’ve been a mentor too, how come she didn’t fall for me?’

‘Maybe because you’ve been mooning over a Sorcerer Supreme?’

That pulled Tony up short, making him stop in his tracks both literally and figuratively.

‘It’s all the kid talks about at home, how you’ve got a wizard pining after you and you haven’t noticed yet. Course, I told him I’ve seen you making eyes at him too.’

‘Since when!’ Tony snapped, wincing at the sharpness in his tone.

‘Tony, I’ve known you for forever. The only other person I’ve ever seen you stare after like this is Pepper.’ Happy wasn’t put off by his tone, they’d known each other too long.

Peter had noticed Stephen staring after him? Happy thought he was sweet on the wizard?

He thought about it for a moment, noticing the box on his desk as he entered the lab, DUM-E poking it.

‘Hey, leave it alone, go make yourself useful. Making eyes, huh?’

‘Big googly ones.’

‘Well, that’s been filed away for later. Make sure you look after them both,’ Tony’s voice went soft.

‘That kid is yours in everything but blood. I’m not going to take your place, but I’ll do my best to look after them both, I promise. You sure you don’t want me to come over? Or come here for Christmas? May honestly wants you to, it’s not a superficial gesture.’

‘I’ve…got plans actually,’ he ran his nail over the box in front of him, resisting the urge to rip it open, focusing on Happy’s voice.

‘Drinking yourself silly or working in the lab until you pass out aren’t plans.’

‘As appealing as both of those are, I do have plans. I’m gonna sign off here, you hurt the hot aunt and I’ll have to hurt you, we good?’

Happy laughed. ‘Yeah, we’re good. Have a good Christmas, Tony.’

‘You too. I’m thrilled you found each other, honestly.’ He ended the call, staring down at his phone for a long while before scribbling off Happy’s and May’s name.

**~~Rhodey~~**

**~~Pepper~~ **

**~~Barnes~~ **

**Stephen**

**~~Peter~~ **

**~~May~~ **

**~~Happy~~ **

**~~Bruce~~ **

**~~Thor~~ **

‘And by the power of deduction, we are left with one.’ Tony circled Stephen’s name, placing his list down and opening his letter.

**I know FRIDAY probably has access to every single song in the world ever written, and that your sound system is unparalleled, I would know, it’s burst my eardrums a few times. But I find nothing ever beats the sound of an old-fashioned record.**

The note was sat on top of an AC DC record, and he felt his smile stretch from ear to ear at the burst of nostalgia he got from looking at the cover.

**And I know you’ve got to have a record player in storage somewhere, and if not, I’m sure you can build one while sleeping. Have fun dancing…Wish I could be doing it with you.**

‘Oh, I will!’

***

**You know what. This seemed like such a romantic gesture at the time. But now, I’m just frustrated. Honestly, what could anyone buy someone for ten lords a-leaping? I remembered you said you liked to read when you were younger and thought you might enjoy this.**

**Sorry, I know it’s such a stretch. I hope you enjoy it.**

‘What is it you want me to do with this?’ Wong turned the note and the book over in his hand, frowning at Tony.

‘I want to know if you can tell me where it came from, if there is any…signature on it, like a magical calling card.’ Tony ran his hand through his hair in frustration. ‘For example, if I need to know where a piece of tech originated from, or a piece of metal, I can have FRIDAY do scans on it to pick up any residue or left-over energy which helps me pinpoint its location. Can you do something similar with this?’

Wong turned The Lord of the Rings book over in his hand, looking over the letter.

‘I understand. Wouldn’t it be better to ask Stephen, he is Sorcerer Supreme, he has a larger repertoire of-’

‘No!’ Tony cleared his throat. ‘I mean no, it’s a simple enough thing, I don’t want to bother him.’

‘As if he’d be bothered by you,’ Wong mumbled under his breath, an orange disk bursting into light in his palm, encompassing both the book and the letter.

Tony hoped he was right.

‘No magical origin, or residue. Whoever gave you this, did it by hand.’

Wong smiled as he handed it back, straightening his tunic and returning to his work in the library, stacking shelves or whatever it was he did.

It wasn’t Stephen?

His fingers felt numb as he walked down the hallway, relying on muscle memory to get him out of the Sanctum.

‘Tony?’

Fate was cruel.

‘Stop! Wait, wait, what’s wrong? Here sit down.’ He was vaguely aware of shaking hands on his shoulders pushing him down into an armchair and then blurry blue eyes were in front of his own.

‘Are you hurt? Has something happened to Peter?’ His forearms were grabbed by shaky hands as Stephen bent down to look at his face.

He should’ve known. The man’s hands shook for heaven’s sake, he couldn’t write his own name let alone penning letters to him.

But, God how he’d wanted it to be him.

‘Tony? Please, talk to me, sweetheart.’

The endearment was a knife to his stomach, twisting and sending veins of hurt into his body.

‘I need to go,’ he forced out through numb lips and a thick tongue.

How did he always get it wrong? Why did he always crave things he couldn’t have?

‘You’re not going anywhere.’ fingers pressed into his neck as Stephen tried to take his pulse.

‘FRIDAY take me home.’

Stephen stumbled out of the way as Tony’s bots covered him, calling after him as he shot off through the front door.

***

**Why would they have eleven pipers piping? Who would want to listen to that? What am I supposed to get you for this? Panpipe music? Bagpipes? Honestly, who wrote this crap?**

It wasn’t Stephen sending them. But he still heard the note in Stephen’s voice as he read it. His sarcasm coming through loud and clear. He didn’t want to look inside the box, didn’t want to know what his admirer who wasn’t Stephen had brought him.

‘Boss, Stephen Strange is asking to meet with you. He’s outside the compound.’

‘It’s Christmas Eve, what the hell is he doing here? Tell him no.’

‘He’s rather insistent. He told me to pass on the message that he’ll portal straight inside the lab if you don’t come and meet him.’

Tony rubbed at his tired eyes. He’d slept in stolen snatches last night, like the proverbial child before Christmas, not that he could remember being excited for presents after that one year.

He didn’t move at the sound of the portal being opened behind him, proud of himself that he didn’t flinch at magic being used so close to him.

‘Talk to me. What happened!’ Stephen demanded.

He was too tired to fight with him, too heartsick not to say anything. The old Tony would have made a quip, told Stephen that he thought he was sending Tony love letters and they could have laughed about it together before returning to friends.

‘I want it you be you.’ Reaching into his pants pocket, he brandished all the letters from the last few days at Stephen, letting them float down to the ground.

He wanted Stephen to be the man who’d seen past everything, that made him feel worthy of being loved.

‘I had a long time to think last night. Even if this isn’t you, even if you have no idea what I’m talking about, I want it to be you.’

He turned in his seat, looking down at Stephen who had knelt on one knee, reading the letters.

‘I like you, Stephen.’

His head snapped up, blue eyes wide in a pale face.

‘Actually, I think it might be more than that and I think I have done for a while.’

‘I had to go all the way to Italy for those,’ Stephen whispered, pointing at the box.

Tony hadn’t even opened it, but he twisted slightly to pull it down from his desk, groaning at what was inside. His favourite, expensive, hard to get coffee beans which he could only get when he was in Italy.

‘I went with piping hot, that was literally all I could come up with. Enjoy your rich, piping hot darkness in a mug, you heathen.’ Tony’s voice cracked as he read the rest of the letter our loud, tears welling in his eyes.

Hands grasped his wrists carefully, sliding up his arms until his shoulders were being held.

‘But the handwriting…and I asked Wong to check the gifts for any magical signature!’

‘I can use magic to steady my hands for a short time, hurts like hell, but I can do it. Wong was in on it the whole time, as was FRIDAY. I think Peter might have figured me out along the way.’

Tony didn’t say anything, unsure what he could say.

‘Here.’ Stephen let go of one of his shoulders, reaching into his tunic to pull an envelope. ‘It’s early, but I’m not sure you’re going to believe me otherwise. Twelve drummers, honestly, the last few days…’

He snatched the letter from Stephen’s hand, needing the evidence before him, still uncertain that this wasn’t a cruel joke.

**Tony, I hope in the last twelve days I’ve shown you just how important you are to someone. Even if nothing comes from this, that we only remain friends, I still want you to know. I love you, Tony Stark, for all of the reasons I listed before, but also because you’re you.**

**I hope that I managed to restore a little bit of Christmas magic for you.**

**Merry Christmas.**

**Stephen Strange.**

‘Everything you wrote-’

‘All true. Every single word of it.’

Done with talking, Tony tossed the letter to one side, not caring where it ended up as he surged down and kissed Stephen. The man didn’t react for a few moments, before a quivering hand was sliding into Tony’s hair, bringing him closer, deepening the kiss.

Tony stopped it before it could get too heated.

‘I didn’t get you anything. You want to take a milk bath? Play with my rubber ducks, read my-’

‘At the risk of sounding cliché, all I want is you, Tony.’

‘Where’s my twelve drummers drumming? I think I need to see that before I make any decisions regarding us.’

Stephen sighed, rolling his eyes as he handed him another envelope.

‘Tickets to an eighties concert…oh, drumming! Clever,’ he smiled, holding out the spare ticket towards Stephen.

‘Want to come?’

‘As?’ Stephen breathed out.

‘As my boyfriend?’

Stephen smiled, threading their fingers.

‘I love you too, Stephen. All of this, everything…thank you. You don’t know how much-’

‘I know exactly how much it meant to you, how shitty some of your Christmas’s have been.’ Stephen shushed him with a finger to his mouth. ‘I promise you. I’ll do everything in my power never to let it happen to you again. Come spend the day with me, wake up with me on Christmas morning.’

‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Tony guessed he could grow to like Christmas.

The End

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